Learning by Heart
by classic princess
Summary: A penalty given to her causes their paths to meet. A period full of work and troubles will enable them to learn about each other. Will those be enough to make them fall? If not, will a third party do? Or will a heart be taken away instead? TezuxOCxOshi


**Disclaimer: The author of this fan fiction does not, in any way, own the anime/manga "Prince of Tennis."**

Summary: A penalty given to her causes their paths to meet. A period full of work and troubles will enable them to learn about each other. Will those be enough to make them fall? If not, will a third party do? Or will a heart be taken away instead? TezukaxOCxOshitari

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Romaji:

"_sensei" _– teacher

"_-tachi" _– suffix indicating plural form of nouns

"_buchou" _– captain

"_bento"_– lunch box

"_tempura"_ – a Japanese dish

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**First Chapter: The Great Depression**

The sun's brilliant rays were illuminating the sky, yet failing to brighten up the moods of Class 3-11 as the students suffered from another of the most wearisome discussions on earth. The atmosphere bounding them was that of pure drowsiness and boredom. Barely anyone was fully listening to the ongoing tedious speech and almost all eyes were half-asleep as they alternately looked from their teacher and back to their notes, drearily jotting down whatever words and phrases their half-attentive ears managed to catch. It was a ghastly subject for most students, and many of them were abruptly swaying back and forth as they drifted in sleep and back again in vague consciousness.

A girl in ponytail indifferently yawned for the fourth time, her hand concealing her mouth, as she stared blankly at the window beside her. World History AGAIN. Oh, how she dreaded that subject her entire life! She lightly rubbed her neck, rested her cheek on her right hand, and groggily glanced at the nonstop-lecturing teacher three rows away from her. The said girl's mouth jerked in irritation as she returned her gaze to the view outside and closed her eyes.

The fifty-two year old educator was walking slowly from one side of the room to the other as he monotonously narrated the tragedies of history. His eyebrows twitched when he noticed his _favorite_ student attempt to sleep in his class AGAIN. He tightened his grip on his six-inch-thick history book. He faked a cough and evidently raised his voice to call _her_ attention, as if his other students didn't need the gestures as well. "I REPEAT, the Great Depression began in 1929 when the entire world suffered an enormous drop in output and an unprecedented rise in unemployment (1) as the—"

A vein sprouted from the girl's forehead as the loud and annoying voice of her teacher hindered her from falling asleep. She massaged her temples with her free hand and rolled her eyes beneath her eyelids.

"Exactly. If your rowdy mouth wouldn't stop blabbering, I'll _definitely_ suffer from 'Great Depression,'" she irritably muttered to herself.

Well, maybe _not just_ to herself.

Cold sweat conquered her body as icy silence surrounded the room. She gulped tensely and slowly opened an eye, followed by the other; her fear gradually being confirmed as she saw everyone's shocked faces staring at her, looking as if a ghost from their scariest nightmares horrifyingly sat on her chair.

It was their teacher's turn to close his eyes. He felt his fist tremble furiously—no, his whole body was frantically shaking as he fought hard to restrain his boiling anger on his _ideal_ student. And why not? That _very_ _diligent _pupil of his never fails to make him marvel at her _stylish_ answers during exams and home works; that _extremely charitable_ student of his always oh-so-generously gives him blank papers during tests and quizzes; and that same _tremendously quiet _girl has by no means given him a problem in hushing her down because her lips are always pursed as well as her eyes. So honestly, why wouldn't he be angry and why wouldn't she be his favorite student for all eternity? The bespectacled teacher felt the heat inside his body ascend towards his head and explode deafeningly...

"TWO WEEKS' DETENTION, HARUKA AYAME!" he furiously shouted, his eyes on the verge of popping out for he opened them ever-so-abruptly.

Ayame flinched; her eyes widened. Two weeks worth of detention for a simple slip-up? She couldn't believe her ears. "But, sensei—"

"MAKE THAT A MONTH!" her teacher yelled in response, appearing as if he would detonate any minute.

Ayame would not have cared even if her dearest teacher self-destructed at that very moment, but she knew that he would take her with him if ever it occurred. She glanced around; hopelessly seeking help from her ever _supportive_ classmates, but all of them wore signs of astonishment in their expressions—a blunt implication that she was all alone in that dilemma. It made obvious sense. What kind of idiot would want to join her in detention?

A gleam from someone's eyeglasses caught her eye. It was the data-man Inui, gruesomely scribbling something on his infamous green notebook. In typical days, she would have loved to wonder what the heck he was noting down, but since she recognized that she was currently done for good, she didn't waste her time pondering over such a stupid matter anymore.

She nervously looked up at her fuming teacher. She gulped once more and then hesitantly opened her mouth, struggling to prepare herself for the horrible consequences in store for her.

"As you wish, sensei," she halfheartedly replied as she looked down at her feet and frowned.

--

"Way to go, Haruka-chan!" her classmates cheered after Yamato-sensei had gone fifty meters from the room.

"That's right! Who would've thought that our dear Haruka-chan would be the one to affront Ya_monster_-sensei?" another of her male classmates remarked, laughing loudly.

It just seemed ridiculous to them that of all people, Ayame would be the student to outrage _to the highest degree_ one of the most irascible teachers in their school. Ayame might act childish and dense at times, but generally speaking, she was just another ordinary female in class.

Ayame glared at them as she took her bento out of her bag. She rolled her eyes. She didn't really mind suffering from detention—she had already gone through it twice, but not for a month! The first two only spanned for an afternoon each. And what was making her feel worse was that it was NOT her intention to insult her teacher at the _exact_ second that he stopped talking to flip a page of his book (as she learned from her jeering classmates). It was a very unfortunate coincidence, and because of it, she had to brace herself for the unquestionably horrendous punishment awaiting her. She would have preferred receiving penalty if she at least enjoyed the reason for it.

She looked around. Her classmates were still jeering and laughing over the incident. How could she eat with such noise when she was well aware that the topic was no other than her? She walked past the circle of chairs her friends were forming.

"Sorry guys, I'll be eating somewhere else," she said, and she left before any of them could react.

--

"Now, where to eat?" she wondered while walking through the corridors. First option: rooftop. No, it was surely being occupied by the popular students. Second option: the grassy area inside the campus. Another no, it would be too uncomfortable eating there alone. Third option: cafeteria. Hmm… there was no other choice.

--

"Hoi, hoi! What do you have in your bento, nya?" Ayame heard a perky batchmate of hers noisily ask another as she sat down alone on one of the corner chairs in the crowded cafeteria.

She was still feeling heavy with what happened. First, she had seriously angered the most villainous and terror teacher in town; second, she had just gotten herself embarrassed in front of the whole class—and news would surely spread fast that it was without doubt to be turned into a running gag; lastly and most dreadfully, she would be suffering detention for a whole month. A WHOLE MONTH! And to think that she didn't precisely insult their teacher's individuality—just his mouth (if that made any difference). She frowned, sighed, pouted, massaged her temples, scratched her head, gritted her teeth, glared at nothing, and BANGED on the table.

Silence fell around her once more. Everyone's heads turned to the direction of the loud pound which was apparently from the table she was occupying. She was certainly prone to attention whether she sought it or not.

"Sorry, sorry," she embarrassedly apologized to no one in particular as she weakly bowed in different directions.

She exhaled deeply before opening her bento. She then took a bite from a piece of her tempura and started eating impassively.

--

…(sound of bell)…

Students showed signs of delight as the bell finally rang signaling the end of classes for that day. They started packing their bags as they chatted about where they'd eat and what they'd do. Normally, Haruka Ayame would be one of those merry students, but since that day was no ordinary one for her, she heaved out a long sigh of infuriation as she grudgingly placed her books inside her bag.

"Aya-chan, are you going to be okay? Want me to come with you?" her friend Mitsuki anxiously asked.

She looked up at her friend's concerned face which appeared to be tons more worried than hers. She felt her frustration melt away; she smiled.

"Don't worry, I'm sure Ya_monster_-sensei wouldn't dare eat me in front of other teachers," she jokingly assured her friend.

She glanced at her favorite cerulean watch; it was two minutes after four. Three minutes to go and their merciless teacher would surely place the entire weight of the earth on her shoulders.

--

"WHAAAT?!" she incredulously asked after Yamato-sensei explained her punishment to her.

"Oi, Haruka, tone down your voice," her Math teacher said, disturbed by her loud shriek.

"Sorry, sensei-tachi," she apologized while bowing, noticing that her voice also interrupted the other teachers inside the Faculty Office.

She turned again to Yamato-sensei.

"Sensei, isn't that a bit too much? I mean, what does a common student like me know about the modus operandi of that organization?" she hurriedly protested.

Her teacher wanted to roll his eyes but massaged his temples instead.

"Haruka Ayame, don't make it sound like I'm designating you as the leader of an illegal underground association. I'm only ordering you to assist and be of service to the student council—particularly to the president—for a whole month. At least you'd be of benefit there than uselessly writing notes every afternoon that wouldn't even sink in your rock-solid head," Yamato-sensei firmly replied, determined not to change his decision despite her objections.

Haruka was submerged in total despair that her teacher's pertaining to her head as 'rock-solid' couldn't spoil her mood any further. She expected something terrible, but what she received was perhaps the worst possible she could get.

"But, sensei—," she uttered for a second time that day.

"NO BUTS, HARUKA! OUT OF THE ROOM! NOW!!"

--

Ayame was still in "Great Depression" as she left the room. No, she wasn't stunned because she received another of her teacher's devastating shouts; it was because of the unbearable penalty he gave her. Be of assistance to the student council? To heck with that! It was almost like being their pet—their slave! She could envision herself running errands here and there as they order her around. She shook her head. Such a thing couldn't be happening to her. It was just an accident—an honest blunder! Why was the punishment so harsh? And to think that she hated popular students the most! Those snobbish, conceited, and ostentatious kids who did nothing but flip their hair and pretend to do some work for the student body—their kind was simply beyond her! Well yeah, probably not all of them are like that...but still! How could such a thing happen to her? And not to forget, there was also the ever-so-popular student council president who did nothing but wear his poker face every single second of his existence. If spending time with a stoic and unresponsive guy like him could transform her into a rock, then she would surely get crushed by the fan girls consistently mobbing all over him. The penalty, to describe it in the nicest word she can, was _lethal_.

'_Oh, speaking of the devil...'_ she thought as she noticed the inexpressive tennis team captain pass by her in the hallway. Of course, not even in her wildest dreams would he politely greet her with even just a nod or a glance—not that she expected or wanted to, by the way. They were, aside from the notion that she knew some basic things about him, plain strangers to each other.

She spun her head around, trying to see whether he'll turn left or go straight for the stairs. She narrowed her eyes. Left—she knew it. Yamato-sensei would probably talk to him about her enslavement, ehem, newly-acquired obligation to the student council.

She looked ahead again and sighed. Monday would be the start of hell for her. Forget about Friday gimmicks and weekend movie viewings, nine hours of sleep every night and two hours of nonstop karaoke singing every afternoon—Ya_monster_-sensei made it clear that her punishment would entail a lot, as in A LOT, of time, especially since their school's sports festival would take place in the next month. She sighed. She was one unfortunate girl, that was for sure.

--

Tezuka Kunimitsu took his leave from the Faculty Office and was then walking through the hallway leading to the tennis courts.

'_Haruka Ayame.'_

The name was far from being familiar to him. He pushed his eyeglasses upward. Putting his team in order was manageable despite the unusual personalities that seemed to be a trend in their club—the first of those he knew belonged to a certain Captain Yamato, a person he exceptionally respected since first year, and the extreme of which belonged to a Fuji Syuusuke, a guy he has known for three years to date. Taking charge of one girl shouldn't be nearly as hard, but seeing as how he wasn't one of the most sociable persons around, and given that "socialization" wasn't even part of his wide array of vocabulary, the task was an added weight for him. He glanced at his watch; both hands pointed in between the numbers four and five, which meant that tennis practice already started. He quickened his pace. Their upcoming matches were crucial, he should not let other things bother his mind.

--

The sun was still shining brightly above, traces of orange and red were starting to become visible in the sky. Two different personalities were bound to cross paths, but no one could ever be so sure of what was destined to ensue...in the days, months, or years to come.

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(1) source: www,shambhala,org/business/goldocean/causdep,html --(change "," to ".")--

Thanks for reading! Please review!


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